Two Cents
by The Rain Child
Summary: Hints H/H. How does Hermione deal with Harry's depressed silence during the end of the 4th book. ((a little of the summer too)).


Rain Child: Okay, here's something to make up for my lack of updating my other HP fanfic. It's a kawaii little one-shot that came to me the other day.  It's a little thing from Hermione's POV on Harry's silence at the end of the 4th Book.  Since it's all about Harry and Hermione, mainly, Ron gets to do the disclaimer,

Ron: Rain Child doesn't own us, or Shaun Grove's song Two Cents. *Shudders* It's probably a good—OW!!!

Rain Child: *Sweatdrops* heh-heh….on with the story!!! Ron, you're fired!!!!

~*~*~*~*~*~

   _Two Cents_

~*~*~*~*~*~

_So proud to call you friend,_

_So let down you're starting up again._

_The same old story, a thousand times told_

_With you, the hapless damsel in distress_

_Am I richer than your King?_

_Will my two cents get you anything?_

            As the Hogwarts coach left the school in the dust, Hermione watched Harry quietly, her chocolate brown eyes clouded over with worry.  She didn't like the way he looked at the scenery his once bright eyes, now dull and emotionless.  She sighed softly, not quite loud enough for either to notice. It pained her to see her friend go into a depression like this. Of course, she didn't know what happened, only Dumbledore, Sirius, and the ones there knew.  She wished she could help, somehow.

_[Chorus:]_

_I'll give you prayers and my time,_

_Ev'ry moment of mine_

_And all I have is yours to spend_

_But if you're hoping all your tears will dry,_

_With words that I dispense, well_

_There's just some things that can't be bought with my_

_Two cents…_

            The summer passed incredibly slowly, even as she tried to bury herself in her work, like she did every summer. She hadn't heard anything from Harry, and she didn't have an owl to do so. As though sensing her worry, Hedwig showed up, but without a letter. Hermione grinned, and got the snowy owl some water. Hedwig cooed greatfully, and relaxed on the windowsill as Hermione scribbled a note.

            'Dear Harry,

                        I hope you're doing well. Ron and I are worried for you. 

            If you want to talk, I'm always there. 

Something seemed missing. Thinking of it, she added,

            'I don't know if you believe in God or not, but I'm praying for you…

                                                                                    Love from,

                                                                                             Hermione'

Still I'm so glad you call me friend 

_Just wondering when your pity parties end_

_When will you stop this bringing invitations_

_Wearing your same black party dress_

_Am I richer than your King?_

_Will my two cents get you anything???_

She handed it to Hedwig, and the owl hooted reassuringly, and flew out the open window. Feeling so much more relieved than before, she lost herself in her work, finally able to concentrate.  

Finally, a week later, Hedwig returned, bearing long roll of parchment.  Sighing with relief, she took the parchment, and handed Hedwig her water dish, and an owl treat she'd gotten from a very confused Ron. ('I really don't get why.' 'It doesn't matter.' 'Still, you don't have an owl, why would you need a treat?' 'It doesn't matter.') She grinned, and tentatively opened the letter, reading the words over and over, her eyes wide in shock, and her mouth opened slightly as she sunk to the chair, reading the words. 

            'Hermione,

                        I'm doing about as well as one could expect, living with these rotten Dursleys, among other things. Of course, you really can't expect, can you? Or Ron? I never did tell you what happened. Maybe I'll tell you, but right now, the wounds are still opened and salted, so to speak.'

The parchment broke off, and another note appeared, 

'I'm ready to tell you…'

The words that followed were blurred a little, by tears, but clear enough that Hermione could make them out. The horrors he had gone through, only now she understood his silence.  "Oh Harry…" She murmured, blinking back her own tears. 

'I'm sorry it took me so long. Ron says I might be able to go visit them. Maybe you can come too. 

                                                                                    Harry

Ps

Don't mention it to Ron, I haven't told him yet. I promise I will though.'

_[Chorus:]_

_I'll give you prayers and my time,_

_Every moment of mine_

_And all I have is yours to spend_

_But if you're hoping all your tears will dry_

_With words that I dispense, well_

_There're just some things that can't be bought with my_

_Bought with my, two cents…_

            Turns out, both Hermione and Harry had been allowed to go visit Ron, like last year.  Only, this time, Bill and Charlie weren't there. Loud explosions were more frequent, as Fred and George's joke-making had increased over the summer, thanks to, as Ron said, their mysterious benefactor.  Harry only smiled.

            One night, as Hermione sat upon a chair across from the fireplace, reading (what else?), she heard the creaking of the stairs as someone headed downstairs. She marked her book with her thumb, and looked up, to see Harry there. She grinned, and asked, 

"Couldn't sleep?"

"Never can…"

"Well, you're welcome to stay here with me, though I can't guarantee I'll be good company."

"I don't mind." 

_And how can I have all the answers,_

_When I've got questions of my own?_

He plopped down upon the couch, as she reopened her book, trying to read. She looked over at him, worried. His eyes had faint circles under them, but they seemed a little brighter than before.  Finally, he broke the silence,

"Hermione, the guilt, it follows me everywhere. You're the one who's so smart, can't you do something?"

"Oh Harry, I can't erase grief, or make it go away. I doubt all the magic in the world could do that."

"He didn't deserve to die."

"Harry, I doubt most people who die deserve death. I wish I could help, I really, really do. But, you're not the only one with questions."

"…" He hung his head, embarrassed, whispering a quiet 'sorry.'

She hummed a tune to herself, singing the end quietly,

_There's no other,_

_Such a friend or brother,_

_Tell it to Jesus, _

_Tell it to Jesus_

_Tell it to Jesus, alone…_

_Why don't tell it to Jesus…_

_Alone…_

He looked up, listening to her voice. Maybe he would tell it. Maybe that one time the Dursleys went to church with him, they had been right. He'd have to think about it though. But as he looked at Hermione, her eyes bright with joy, as she sung the song, he knew it. She deserved to hear his decision, and so he told her quietly,

"I will then."

She smiled at him, her eyes slightly watery. She hugged him, and went up to bed, to sleep and dream, as all do at some point. Harry soon followed, to his own bed, and thought long and hard, before finally, falling into the first peaceful sleep he'd had in a very long time…

~*~*~*~*~*~

Rain Child: note first: [1] I'm completely aware there is no suggestion anyone in the Harry Potter books believes in God, but this _is_ fanfiction, and I think something this could be possible. [2] I'm aware this is not completely in character, and I apologize for those, like me, who desire to have characters kept in character as much as possible.

Okay, now, please review to let me know you still want me to keep writing!!!!  And try to refrain from flaming, please!__


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